Everything Old is New Again
by buduica
Summary: Touya and Shindou aren't the first couple to ever fall in love. Shinoda, the all-seeing insei master, understands what is happening to the world of Go, and to his former student.


**Everything Old is New Again  
**

_by aishuu _

* * *

Shinoda Kenji was rarely late, but even he had his off days.

After missing his 7:20 train, he had to wait for fifteen minutes before the next one arrived – and that was even more crowded. Having one of the _oshiya_, also known as a pusher, tap him on the back to make sure he avoided the shutting door of the train made him realize the day had the potential to be very bad.

Shinoda was a meticulous man, organized and usually placid, but he was also superstitious. He forced himself to stand with his hands and briefcase close to his body, reminding himself that getting irate would only exacerbate the situation. Taking deep breaths, he waited for his stop to arrive. Normally he'd get off at the Institute, but the 11th Young Lions Tournament had been slated for a nearby civic center in an attempt to promote public interest in Go. It meant he had to travel extra stations, crammed into the train with people who were talking on cellphones and giving nervous glances at their watches.

When the doors finally opened at Shinanomachi, he rushed off with almost indecent haste as he straightened his tie. The clock was pushing past eight, and he was going to have to skip breakfast if he wanted to arrive early enough to help with the event set-up.

"Was wondering when you'd get here, Shinoda," an irritable voice said, and Shinoda offered a calm smile in reply as he nodded a formal greeting to Zama Jiro Ouza. They had never really gotten along, although Shinoda was one of the few professionals Zama didn't outright loathe. Shinoda prided himself on his good relations with his colleagues.

Zama had been the professional who'd been assigned to officially "host" this event, which Shinoda privately thought was a pity, since Zama didn't like children. However he also didn't have any students in the event, so there was no possible conflict of interest. As host, he was the official judge of the matches, and would have the final say if any problems arose. It was rare for such an issue to occur, but with so many simultaneous, possibly unobserved games, it wasn't outside the realm of probability.

"I've got the list of matches here," Shinoda said, refusing to rise to the bait. Handing over a sheet of papers, he turned to the nearby custodians to direct the table set-up. It used to be that he'd help drag the furnishings around himself, but he'd thrown his back out about two years before and was now confined to only light lifting.

The tables and chairs went up quickly, with plenty of space between them to ensure places for spectators to watch. After the recent Hokuto Cup tournament, there was a strong interest in Japan's younger professionals. He knew that Shindou Hikaru and Touya Akira would be the main attractions at the event, but there would be plenty of fans willing to glimpse at the talent of others, looking for new professionals and upcoming insei to support.

As soon as the setting was prepared, Shinoda himself set out the gobans, checking each go ke to ensure they hadn't been mixed up and ensuring the batteries in the timers were working. At last satisfied, he turned to look at the clock, and saw that it wasn't even nine o'clock. There was still an hour before the first round of the matches would begin.

With a slight smile curving the corners of his lips, he went to open the doors. Some of the insei would be very early, eager to play their first "real" match. The more seasoned professionals would be later, pushing the quarter of ten required appearance. He wasn't surprised to see three of the most eager of his students waiting outside the door, including Oka Kimiko, one of the youngest.

"Hello, sensei," the three said, bowing hastily as they recognized him.

He smiled at that. "It's nice to see your enthusiasm," he said, before stepping back and waving them in. "I trust you will all conduct yourselves as potential professional go players," he added, pointedly looking at Oka. She blushed and looked down at her feet, hurrying past him to avoid a lecture.

Shinoda shook his head. He liked the girl quite a bit, but when she was put together with Shouji Haruki, the results were explosive. The duo managed to get on his nerves with their bickering, making him uncharacteristically snappish and impatient as he tried to keep them in line. Considering the last insei to so irritate him was one Shindou Hikaru, he was expecting big things of them since they were only eleven years old.

"The future of Go!" A cheerful voice chirped to his side, and he turned to raise an eyebrow at the reporter, Kosemura. Kosemura had been an insei about ten years ago, a failed professional test-taker like many members of the Weekly Go staff. The ones who really loved the game managed to keep it in their lives.

"Hello, Kosemura-kun. I thought Amano was reporting today?" he asked.

"Touya Kouyo agreed to do an interview with him, providing it took place this morning before his flight to Beijing leaves," said Kosemura. "I think Amano-san will be here later."

"He's been after that interview for weeks," Shinoda replied with a knowing chuckle. "Good for him."

"He was disappointed to be missing out on the earlier matches, considering the schedule." The man fiddled with his notebook for a moment. "Any of your charges I should be looking at?"

"All of them." Shinoda didn't play favorites to the media, and wouldn't go on the record speculating about young players' prospectives. There would be enough time for scrutiny and criticism later, if they made it through the exams. The youngsters experienced tons of pressure as things were, and Shinoda was careful to avoid breaking any of them with thoughtless words.

"Fine, fine, I'll do my own legwork." Kosemura crossed his eyes obviously before laughing and leaving him alone.

Shinoda checked the time again, and smiled when he saw the first of the professionals arrive. Honda walked in besides Ochi Kousuke, and Shinoda went over to greet his former students. Both were polite young men, exchanging the proper formalities as Shinoda offered them compliments on their successes. By the time they were done speaking, the small trickle of entrants had opened into a flood of people, and Shinoda wasn't able to keep track of who had arrived and who hadn't.

The Young Lion's Tournament always left him with a nostalgic feeling since he'd had more than two thirds of the participants in his classes. To him, it was a bit like the holidays, with plenty of distant family members and friends returning, and not enough time to see them all. He wondered, sometimes, when he had gotten old because it didn't seem that long ago that he'd been competing in the Toriyama Cup, a now-defunct event that had served a similar purpose to today's matches.

He saw Shindou Hikaru enter, and he smiled slightly. Despite himself, Shindou was one of his favorites. He hoped to catch a word with him, but Kosemura was back, complaining about how boring the match ups were going to be since Shindou and Touya were supposed to play in the second round instead of the final.

"There are other great players outside the Hokuto Cup players," he corrected gently. "For instance, Isumi." It was his private belief that Isumi would end up facing the winner of the Touya-Shindou match for the title. But there was always the possibility of an upset.

Kosemura was distracted by Shindou before replying, and Shinoda shook his head as the young reporter bounced over to his personal favorite. Kosemura still had a lot to learn.

Shinoda watched the conversation, and wasn't surprised when Touya Akira showed up moments later to speak to his rival. The contrast between the two – Shindou in a casual flannel shirt and jeans, Touya in a suit – was striking, but Shinoda looked under the surface dissimilarities. Both of them had the heart of true Go players, the kind of people who loved the game since there simply wasn't any other option for them. Whenever they played, they brought balance to each other. Watching them compete in the Hokuto Cup had shown how much the pair had grown as players and as people.

And they had grown because of each other.

Shinoda had never really gotten to know Touya Akira that well, which was a disappointment to him since he'd once been very close to Kouyo. Once upon a time, he'd even fancied himself a bit in love with his classmate, although he'd never been brave enough to make any kind of overture. He wondered what his students would say, to learn their "old as the hills" mentor had once been young and infatuated with another man.

Those feelings were distant now, but he still cherished the memory of his first crush. Kouyo had been everything Shinoda had wanted in another person – brilliant, attractive and the most talented Go player of their age. He'd also been distressingly straight, dating pretty girls who all watched him with adoring eyes. When he'd finally chosen Akiko as his wife, Shinoda had been one of the first to be presented with a wedding invitation. Shinoda wondered sometimes if Kouyo had ever deduced how he felt, but knew it didn't matter. It was something their generation simply didn't speak of.

Shinoda watched as Shindou pointed out Shouji to his rival, their conversation casual and friendly, and he couldn't help but smile a bit. From what he'd seen of Akira, Shinoda knew the boy took after his father – except in one of the most important ways. He wondered if the boy would – could – ever admit he was in love with his rival. He wasn't a busybody, though, and it was none of his business. But if he was reading the situation right (and he was rarely wrong when it came to matters of the heart), Akira was brave enough to try.

Which left matters in the hands – and heart – of Shindou. And he was one of the few Shinoda still hadn't gotten a decent bead on. The boy was talented, but there was a secrecy about him, despite his outgoing personality. Shinoda had laid a private wager that Akira would have to be the one to make a move if anything was to actually develop.

But now was not the time to be lallygagging. He had a tournament to get started, since Zama wasn't likely to take responsibility. Clearing his throat, he announced loudly that the match was about to begin, directing the contestants to their assigned tables. As people began to organize, he noted that the turn-out for spectators was better than it'd been in the past. Most of them started to congregate around the Shindou and Touya's tables, but there was no match that was going to be unwitnessed. He smiled with pleasure as he went over the rules, Zama standing beside him with a threatening scowl.

As soon as the buzzer sounded, Zama excused himself and retired to the greenroom that had been set up for the older professionals working the event. Shinoda knew he'd probably be spending most of the day there smoking and studying kifu for his coming match with Ogata. While he wished a more involved high-ranking dan – like Morishita – had pulled this duty, Shinoda supposed Zama's disinterest was for the best.

Shinoda wandered between the games, pausing at each for a couple of minutes. Every game was of interest to him, since he could see how his students were evolving. There were a couple who definitely weren't ready for such a contest, and he wasn't surprised to see that Suzuki Miyu was the first to resign, barely a half hour into the competition. She'd drawn Isumi as her opponent, and the mismatch in their skill levels was immense. But Isumi was also very kind, and immediately started explaining what had happened and offering advice. It was the best thing for Suzuki right now, since she'd been getting overconfident after winning her way into the first class.

Two other resignations also came quickly, with Oka and Shouji resigning to the former members of the Hokuto Cup team. That was good, too, in Shinoda's estimation, since seeing the skill of those they had previously derided would show how far they still had to go before being ready to enter the pros.

He was just taking a glance at Komiya's board when he realized that more than half the allotted time had flown past. Komiya had a good chance of defeating Honda, since they'd always been well-matched while in the insei. Honda's style had grown more bold since passing the pro exam, but Komiya had more to prove. This was his last year in the insei before his age would disqualify him. Shinoda adjusted his glasses and decided the match could go either way. It wasn't surprising.

Komiya and Nase were Shinoda's favorites to pass the exams, with Fukui also very possibly a victor. Of course, the result wouldn't be known until after the exams, and there was always the possibility of outsiders like Kadowaki showing up or one of the lower ranked insei suddenly having a breakthrough. Shindou passing had surprised most of them, after all.

Nase was across the room, and he wasn't surprised to see Iijima Ryou standing beside the table, studying the game intently. He remembered the crush the boy had had on her, and was privately pleased that Iijima hadn't given up. The boy was one of those likely to join the ranks of Weekly Go, provided he got into a decent college.

Most of the games had been decided, and Shinoda could tell just by looking at his students' faces who had won. Nosaki had defeated Mashiba 3-dan – hardly a shocker – and Fukui had won through, but the current top-ranked insei, Iedomi, had lost his match. A moment later he saw Komiya resign to Honda, who sat back from his board with a relieved expression. The tournament prize wasn't much, but any professional who lost in the first round would get sideways looks for weeks.

It wasn't until the match buzzer sounded that the final two matches were decided by counting territory. Nase had won by two moku, but the final insei, Nakamura, had lost by the same amount. There would be one more round before they broke for lunch.

As the players shifted around to face their next opponents in the single-elimination tournament, Shinoda moved to the greenroom to get a cup of tea. His feet were already getting sore – another sign that he wasn't as young as he used to be – and he wanted five minutes to sit down himself.

Zama was there, shooting him a raised eyebrow. "First round done?"

"Yes," Shinoda replied as he opened up one of the bottles that had been chilling in ice, "and I don't think there were any real surprises."

"So Shindou and Touya are getting ready to play?"

"Like the other fourteen first-round winners," Shinoda replied calmly. "There will be some very good matches."

"Cut it out, Shinoda," Zama snapped, shutting the book of kifu he'd been perusing. "The main attraction of this entire exercise in futility is about to take place."

"Do you have some interest, then?" Shinoda asked, taking a sip of the drink as he plopped down on the couch across from the Ouza. Zama wasn't his first choice of company, but Shinoda wasn't about to make a fuss. He didn't dislike anyone openly, so no one disliked him.

"Of course I do. I'm not stupid," Zama replied, leaning forward intently to make his point. "Those two brats are coming up, and only a truly stupid player isn't paying them attention."

"There are others, Zama-Ouza," Shinoda said. "Touya and Shindou may be good, but they're only a part of the New Wave. It's wisest to keep an eye on all of them."

"I'm only playing Shindou next month," Zama snapped, rising to his feet and collecting his sports coat. Then he stomped out of the room, leaving Shinoda to his own company.

Apparently he'd underestimated Zama, he thought. The man was right – he wasn't stupid. And from Zama's perspective, the only game to really matter was the Shindou-Touya match.

A part of Shinoda wished he could make the seasoned pros care about the insei and the other talented youth that would someday fill their ranks. Shinoda knew he himself would never be a title holder, but recognized his gifts as a teacher would ensure him a longer-lasting legacy than most professionals could hope for. But the professional world fostered a sense of selfishness in some, a myopic sight that could only see the benefits in improving one's own game.

After finishing his tea, he tossed the can into the recycling bin and headed back to the matches. On the way there, he ran into Oka and Shouji, sitting together companionably. It was a large improvement from the last time he'd seen the pair together, so he offered them a smile. "Did your matches go well?" he asked, even though he already knew the outcomes.

Both of them hung their heads a bit. "We lost," Shouji said glumly. "I was completely crushed."

"Me, too," Oka added. "Shindou is really, really good."

"So's Touya," Shouji said.

The losses were good for both of them, Shinoda thought, manfully resisting the urge to laugh. The complete turnabout from their previously disrespectful attitudes was amusing. "Did you learn from the games?"

"I learned a lot. I'm going to be a pro!" Shouji declared, resting his fist against his chest as he made the vow.

"So am I!"

Shinoda nodded, but didn't say anything more as he left the pair alone to talk further. Sometimes people learned more through losing well-fought matches than taking a victory.

There were still about five minutes before the round was due to start, but Shinoda noticed people were already jockeying for positions around the board where Touya and Shindou were to play. That was a match he would like to watch as well, but it would be wiser for him to keep an eye on his current charges. Besides, he'd be able to get someone to show him the match later. There was a tap on his shoulder, and Shinoda started in surprise as he realized Amano had somehow crept up behind him.

The reporter was good at catching people unawares, he thought with amusement as he turned around to see what he wanted. Amano was dressed in a rumpled suit, like always. The man was rarely well-presented, and Shinoda had to restrain an urge to straighten his tie, his sense of order overwhelmed by practicality. He could just imagine the man's reaction to the invasion of his personal space. "Did your interview go well?" he asked blandly.

"You know, if I had your information network, I'd never have to leave my office," Amano replied. "Yes, it went well. It'll be a nice feature when I get the chance to type it up."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"Damn right it will be. I'm the one writing it. Are you going to be watching the Touya-Shindou match?"

"No, I'm going to be checking on Nase, Fukui and Nosaki."

"Always working, aren't you?"

"So are you," Shinoda replied with an amused smile. "If you could get me a copy of the kifu for the Shindou-Touya match, though, I'd appreciate it."

"No problem." Amano pulled out his ever-present reporter's notebook and went to try to weasel a space next to Shindou and Touya's goban.

The buzzer went off to indicate it was time for the round to start, and Shinoda went back to work, making the necessary announcements. The crowd's impatience to start hummed in the air around him, but Shinoda was thorough and didn't rush to appease them. "If everyone will settle down, we're about to start the second round. In this round, professionals will be playing each other with a 5.5 komi..."

He knew most of the audience was tuning him out, but Shinoda wasn't the type to get irritated by that. He found comfort in the familiarity of the rules, and the eagerness of the youngsters to play excited him. There was something reassuring about how much they all adored the game, even though it was over a thousand years old.

As he watched Nase fight a losing battle with Isumi, he didn't have to wonder about how the "headline event" was going. He could tell what was happening by the murmurs of the crowd whenever Touya or Shindou played an interesting hand – which seemed to be occurring at five-minute intervals. The audience was being unintentionally rude by making such a racket, but the other players were bearing up wonderfully, concentrating on their own matches.

About two-thirds of the way into the allotted time – Nase had indeed lost, but it Fukui had surprised Shinoda by winning his way into the third round – there was a large commotion that drew his attention. The crowd around Shindou and Touya was buzzing (inappropriate as heck, considering other games were still going on). Shinoda's composure was tested as he stared at the sight.

Touya Akira had his head bowed, his face hidden by his long hair. Shindou was leaning back against his seat, looking exhausted and satiated. The spectators were talking to each other, leaning closer to the board, and a couple of them were trying to get some answers from the players. Shinoda knew, just by looking, what a momentous occasion it was.

Shindou Hikaru had defeated Touya Akira.

Like many professionals, he was interested in the relationship between the two. He remembered, though it seemed like a very long time ago, that Shindou had announced himself to the other insei as Touya Akira's rival. As the boy's skills had been barely good enough to qualify for the insei classes, Shinoda had been amused. But as time wore on, he started to see that special something in Shindou's game, the spark of true genius that all of the highest ranking pros needed. And so he wondered if Shindou might have been telling the truth.

Rumors spread through the Go world like it was a beauty salon, with everyone eagerly waiting to share the next juicy tidbit with their colleagues and acquaintances. And when the grapevine started to carry semi-regular stories about the Shindou-Touya rivalry, Shinoda had been as interested as anyone. A man wasn't done teaching just because his students had moved on.

Though he wondered how much of an influence he'd been on Shindou. The boy had been shaped by the hands of a master player, and Shinoda knew his studies in the insei hadn't been what had formed him. Maybe Shinoda had been able to give him a bit more discipline, but most of what Shindou had learned came from some other source.

But there were others who would need his guidance. He turned back to where Nosaki was playing, reminding himself that his duty was to the current insei, not his past student.

The commotion on the other side of the room rattled Nosaki, he noted, seeing the boy play a couple of hasty hands that weren't that advantageous. Tsujioka, his competition, took advantage and started tearing holes in the boy's shape. Shinoda mentally noted that Nosaki would need additional lessons on focus. Professionals often played in less-than-ideal situations, especially during demonstrations and teaching games. If Nosaki couldn't maintain his concentration during this kind of game, he wasn't ready to become a professional. But it was a lesson better learned now than later.

He watched as Tsukioka completed the match, drawing on his experience to cut Nosaki's territory in half with just three more moves. The insei stared down at the game, and saw the writing on the wall. Bowing his head, he resigned, then pushed back from the table and darted out of the room.

Tsukioka put his hand behind his head, looking a bit sheepish. "I guess we're not discussing the game," he said. "Sorry if I scared your student, sensei."

Shinoda studied the board. "It's not your fault, Tsukioka-kun. It's obvious that I need to sit down with him and go over the proper formalities." He bowed his head respectfully to his former student. "Thank you for playing with him."

"He's good," Tsukioka replied. "It was an interesting game until..." He glanced over to where Shindou and Touya were beginning to discuss the game. "I'd like to go take a peek at their final board – would you like to join me?"

Shinoda shook his head. "I'll get someone to replay it for me later. Right now I need to check on my students," he said. It was more important to make sure none of them were having nervous breakdowns.

Out in the hallway, he found Nase surrounded by a couple of her friends who were there adding support. He tried not to smile at the sight of Iijima, with his hand wrapped around Nase's. Shinoda was pleased to see the chemistry he'd noted before between the pair had finally come to fruition. Although Iijima was no longer in the insei, he was still one of Shinoda's to look after.

"-definitely have to go to Waya's study group. Maybe Shindou will be there," the pretty girl was saying to her friends.

"Think you could swing me an invitation?" Kojima asked hopefully. "I haven't talked to Waya in a while, but I'd like to hear that discussion."

"Sure. Are you interested, too, Ryou?"

"If I wouldn't be getting in the way," Iijima replied.

"It'll be fun," Nase assured him.

Pleased to see the insei's friendships at play, Shinoda decided to find Fukui. The speed specialist was doing better than Shinoda had anticipated, which might give him additional momentum going into the pro exam. Of course, some people collapsed when the stakes went too high, so checking on his student would be a wise precaution.

Fukui wasn't in the game room, so Shinoda stepped back out to head to the men's room. Ochi Kousuke wasn't the only insei who found the place a good retreat after the game. He nudged the door open, and blinked when he heard voices. The set-up of the room was such that they couldn't see him, since their line of sight was blocked by the stalls, but he could see their reflections in a mirror.

"-had to happen someday," the younger Touya said. He was leaning against the sink, his skin damp. Shinoda wagered he'd been washing his face to help regain his composure.

"It was a good game," Shindou replied. "I'm glad you came at me with everything you had, instead of indulging in some kind of foolish idea of sympathy because of what happened at the Hokuto Cup."

"I wouldn't do that." Akira didn't look at Shindou directly, instead focused on his own reflection in the mirror. "Doing that would cheapen our rivalry."

Shindou's breathing hitched for a second. "At least you respect me."

Shinoda could hear the insecurity that was based on. For all his overt confidence, there was something almost fragile about Shindou's heart. The string of forfeits he'd started his career off with were just the tip of an iceberg, buried deep under the sea of Shindou's talent. He wondered if Akira had seen that troubled core, and if he would be able to help. Sometimes Shinoda feared that Shindou would break, coming up so fast without support from anyone else.

"Hikaru..." Akira said, holding out his hand but letting it fall to his side before he touched his rival. Hikaru didn't seem to notice the almost-touch, the deferred moment of intimacy. But Shinoda did, and couldn't help but smile. Akira did understand, probably more than he realized.

Shinoda was wise enough to see what was going on between the two, even if they couldn't. Within a year, they'd likely be a couple – and out about it. Shindou wasn't the type who could keep his feelings hidden, and young Touya wouldn't care what others thought, either.

He'd have to find some sucker to bet with, he thought with amusement, before brushing the idea aside. It wouldn't be discreet to draw any attention to the brewing romance. He stepped away, shutting the door behind him silently, with the skill learned from years of lurking around insei games.

He glanced at his watch, noting that he had less than an hour to eat before the last match of the day started. The semi-finals and finals would take place tomorrow, but there were still four matches left this day. In all his rush earlier, he'd neglected to order something to eat, which meant he'd have to go out and grab something from a convenience store. He had to be back in time to organize them, since Zama had no interest.

But he had the feeling the most interesting thing had already happened.

He was right. When the third round of games started, there were no surprises. Shindou, Isumi, Ochi and Waya won through to the semi-finals. Shinoda spent most of his time watching Fukui's match against Shindou, and was pleased at how well his student did. Shindou's game was good as well, but it lacked the shine of his Go when he played against more challenging opponents. Playing Touya earlier in the day had likely worn him out... but he still forced Fukui to resign halfway through.

The last match – Ochi against Kadowaki – took nearly all the alloted time. By the end of it, the crowd was thin because neither Ochi nor Kadowaki had many fans or friends. When they finally counted territory, Ochi had eked out a one-and-a-half moku victory. He didn't seem happy about that, but a win was a win no matter how large the margin.

Just because the tournament was over didn't mean Shinoda's job for the day was done. Someone had to oversee the breakdown, and it certainly wasn't going to be Zama, who had hotfooted it out of the building as soon as Kadowaki admitted his loss. So Shinoda collected all the boards and packed them away neatly in a large box to be delivered to the Institute on Monday. A couple of the center's staff took care of the chairs and tables, and he made sure the manager didn't need anything else from the the Go Institute. It took more than an hour, and by the time he was able to leave, it was past six.

Riding the subway home in the evening was just as bad as hitting rush hour, even though it was Saturday, since many people were preparing to head out for a night on the town. He didn't manage to secure a seat, leaving him standing in the middle of the aisle. He held onto his briefcase, marking the stations as he neared his ultimate destination.

He arrived home later than he would have liked, feeling the stress of a very long day weighing heavily on his shoulders. The lights were already on, thankfully, so he didn't have to fumble around looking for them. So instead he kicked off his shoes in the genkan before proceeding to the kitchen to meet his partner.

They'd been together for more than twenty years, but Shinoda still smiled when he saw Amano puttering around the kitchen. His partner loved to cook, as his paunch bore evidence to. Despite the changes time had wrought, he still couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"What's cooking, Ichirou?" he asked, setting his briefcase on the counter.

"Omurice, miso soup, and I've purchased some green tea ice cream for dessert," Amano said. "Should be ready in about ten minutes." He frowned at the briefcase, and Shinoda sighed.

"I'll put my briefcase away and wash up," he said, knowing better than to argue. Amano was something of a neat freak when it came to their home – everything had to be in the right place.

Going to the bathroom, he couldn't help but reflect on how whipped he was. Amano and he had been insei together, although Amano was several years younger. While Shinoda had broken into the professional ranks at sixteen, Amano had aged out of the insei without passing the exam. It wasn't until after Amano had joined the staff of Go Weekly that their relationship had developed – which was likely a good thing.

He wondered, sometimes, how things would have worked out if he and Amano had been rivals. As he rinsed the dirt from the afternoon off his hands, he decided he was happier not knowing. Kuwabara had always spoken about how Go was a game meant for two players, and the importance of rivalry. But rivalry was not friendship, and rivalry could scar the heart, just as surely as love could.

Shinoda had never been one of those players to declare someone else their one true rival. Instead, he delighted at the opportunity to play different people, to learn different styles. While he was pleased when he won, his heart lay in the exploration of Go. Perhaps that was why he had never become one of the title holders, since he didn't want it badly enough to sacrifice everything.

But now was not the time to think of that. Instead, he made his way back to the kitchen and took his place at the table they usually dined at. Amano had already set the table, so Shinoda took his customary place, quietly watching as his partner finished assembling the meal.

Their twenty-second anniversary – counted from when they had moved in together – was coming up, and Shinoda was struggling to find the perfect gift. Last year he'd given a laptop, which Amano mainly used as a very expensive paperweight, preferring old-fashioned pen and paper. Shinoda was determined to be more successful this year.

Amano set a bowl of miso soup in front of him, and then offered the omurice set out attractively on a white plate. After pouring green tea for them both, he claimed his own customary seat and picked up his chopsticks.

Shinoda ate eagerly, hungry after the long day. The food was tasty, and he started to relax. It always took him a bit to unwind after work, especially when tournaments were involved. Amano, through long experience, was wise enough to wait for Shinoda to make the first overture. But their silence was one of harmony, not discomfort.

After eating half his meal, Shinoda was finally ready for conversation. "How was the Shindou-Touya match?" he asked.

"Stunning."

For all his skill at writing, there were times Amano lacked the words to speak. Shinoda raised an eyebrow, encouraging elaboration.

"I'll replay it for you later. It'll make a good game for you to discuss with the insei, since so many of them were watching."

"What were your general impressions, Ichirou?"

"Only the two of them could have played like that. The matches at the Hokuto Cup had nothing on the intensity they brought to bear. While Ko Yeong-ha may be the superior player for their age level, technically speaking, I doubt he could make either Shindou or Touya play like that."

Shinoda couldn't prevent a smirk from forming on his lips. "It probably has something to do with how they feel about each other."

"Oh?" Amano asked, tilting his head.

"I walked in on them in the men's room."

"Oh!" Amano's eyes went wide. "Were they..." he coughed, unable to continue with the question.

"No. But it was definitely a private moment," Shinoda said, before offering a slight smile. "I don't think they've considered _that_ a possibility, but it's only a matter of time."

Amano tapped his chin, which Shinoda still found adorable even after all their years together. Amano was no longer a young and good-looking man, but Shinoda was constantly reminded of what had attracted him. "That will make the next couple years very interesting, won't it?"

"Especially if it doesn't work out," Shinoda replied. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that love was a magic elixir that made life wonderful. Relationships – mature commitments, not just those built upon lust and attraction – took work. Everything in life that was truly valuable took effort.

"So?" Amano asked. "What are your impressions, Ken? Will it?"

Shinoda felt his lips quirk, hearing the echo in the question he had posed earlier to his partner. "My professional opinion? From what I've seen, they're obsessed with each other."

"But that's not love, is it?"

"It's a form of it, certainly. There's different ways to love someone."

"And not all of them are as comfortable as we are."

Shinoda finished off his tea, wordlessly holding it out for a refill. "Indeed," he said as Amano obliged. "But I think they're going to make it, although there will be plenty of fireworks on the way. And probably for the rest of their lives."

"I can't see either of them being happy with a quiet life," Amano returned. "We're just going to have to watch how it plays out. And I have a feeling it's going to play their games together, unique to both of them."

"Watching is nearly as enjoyable as playing," Shinoda replied, and was rewarded with a grin of understanding. Rising, he went to the freezer to dish out their desserts, pausing only to brush an affectionate kiss on top of Amano's head.

Kuwabara-sensei and Touya-sensei were acknowledged as the strongest players, but it was unspoken that Amano and Shinoda were masters in their own right. Between them, the intricacies of the game on the board and the game behind ebbed and flowed.

They would watch. They, more than most, knew there were several layers of what occurred between fuseki and yose, between start and surrender, and what came after and between.


End file.
